


Four Stories from the Star

by Weasleychick32



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Ficlet, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2016-11-04
Packaged: 2018-08-28 22:47:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8465878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weasleychick32/pseuds/Weasleychick32
Summary: There was a knock on the window.
At first, Castiel thought he was imagining it. It was impossible. No one could knock on the window on the 25th floor. The knock came again and Castiel slowly turned to face the glass, sure that he’d fallen into a horror movie of some kind. He wasn’t prepared for what he saw.





	

There was a knock on the window.

At first, Castiel thought he was imagining it. It was impossible. No one could knock on the window on the 25th floor. The knock came again and Castiel slowly turned to face the glass, sure that he’d fallen into a horror movie of some kind. He wasn’t prepared for what he saw.

It was Dean, strapped onto a small wooden platform, suspended from somewhere up and out of Castiel’s limited view. It’s the same small wooden platform Dean used to wash the windows from three years ago when he and Castiel first met. It was actually how they met. Castiel remembers that first note he wrote, black marker on plain white printer paper and how he held it up to the first window washer to come up that day and it had just so happened to be Dean.

Castiel had wanted to know how close their floor was to the “cap” of the building; the place where the exterior walls convex and form star-like points that starburst out and circle the circumference of the building. He was curious, had been since his first day, but it was impossible to see from inside. Dean had ignored his knocking at first; far too used to obnoxious white collar office workers gawking at the blue collared guy 30 stories up with only some ropes keeping him from falling to his death. Eventually, he gave in and looked.

Castiel remembers his look of surprise and the curious look he gave Castiel before craning his neck up and counting. He held up four fingers. Castiel was four floors from the star. He dropped his note to reveal a second sheet with a pre-written “Thank you!”, rather than the rather rude pre-written “Assbutt” that he’d planned to slap against the window had his simple request been refused.

Dean had smiled a bit, still confused, and continued on with his job while Castiel returned to his desk, thinking the interaction was over. And it was, at least until the following week when Dean appeared outside Castiel’s office window once again, this time with his own note written on a ripped sheet of notebook paper reading, “PIE?” followed by seven digits and a simple cartoon drawing of two slices of cherry pie.

Castiel was baffled. Surely the man had meant to ask one of the many attractive and competent women working in the company, not awkward,  _ male _ , Castiel. But when Castiel gestured to himself questioningly he only received a heavy eye roll and a look that quite clearly asked who the hell else the sign would be meant for in Castiel’s personal enclosed office empty save him.

In the end, Castiel had accepted the offer and was rewarded with a brilliant smile complete with eye crinkles from the man outside the window and some of the best pie (and company) he’d ever experienced before that evening.

But none of that explained what Dean was doing outside that same window now. In the three years since then, Dean had finished school and quit his secondary window washing job; instead, he gained employment as a mechanical engineer.

Castiel took a step closer to the window and saw what he missed before. Dean was pressing a sign against the window, just like three years ago. The corners of the familiar notebook paper fluttered away from the glass courtesy of the stiff, constant wind that came with being this high up, but the words were still legible. A brilliant smile creeps over Castiel’s face.

Quickly, he scrambled for the nearest paper and pen on his desk and ended up scribbling a hasty “YES” on a yellow post-it note before he slapped it ink first onto the glass. Dean’s eyes flickered briefly to the note before they connected with Castiel’s.

In the years that come Dean will claim that it was the wind that made his eyes water, but Castiel won’t care about the little white lie told to spare Dean’s pride in the company of his brother and friends. All Castiel will need are two sheets of old yellowing notebook paper, one with the word “PIE?” and the other with the words “WILL YOU MARRY ME?” scrawled across them in fading black ink.

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this on tumblr a while ago and figured I might as well stick it here too. Hope you enjoyed! I'm Weasleychick32 on tumblr as well if you want to hunt me down.


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